


All the Ways to Walk Home

by getawaygarden



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Emily is the nicest person in the world, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shane Needs Therapy, Shane says the f word a lot, Time Loop, did i mention shane is an asshole, no farmer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getawaygarden/pseuds/getawaygarden
Summary: On the 27th of Summer, Shane had a bad day - a really, really bad day. The best way to end that day, he decided, was to get so drunk that he couldn't remember the rest of it, which is what he did.On the 27th of Summer, Shane woke up again, this time with a very strong sense of deja vu.And then he woke up on the 27th of Summer, again. And again.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for entire fic:  
> -alcohol abuse  
> -strong language  
> -anger issues

On the 27th of Summer, Shane woke up to the sound of his radio alarm at 6:00 AM. 

“ _Gooood_ morning, Stardew Valley!” the deejay’s voice, which was a little too cheery for Shane, came through the speakers. “It’s gonna be a hot, sunny day, so make the most of the last two days of Summer! Don’t forget that the Moonlight Jellies will pass by the beach tomorrow night, and you won’t want to miss it.”

Shane shoved his head under his pillow. 

“Shut _uuup_ ,” he groaned. 

“Let’s start off the day with the brand-new single from John Gregory and the Peaches, called _Play It Again_. This is its first time hitting the airwaves, folks, so let us know if we should, well, play it again!”

Upbeat guitars and drums kicked in and Shane slammed the snooze button to silence them. He could sleep for a new more minutes, especially if it meant he could skip that song.

When he woke up again, the sun was streaming in through the windows. _Shit_ , he thought as he sat up and looked at his clock. It was 8:30. He must have pressed off instead of snooze, and his shift at JojaMart was supposed to start at 8. He scrambled out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans that were close by on the floor. He tried to find a clean work shirt, but had to settle for one that smelled only slightly of body odor.

He stumbled into the kitchen, where Marnie was pouring a glass of orange juice for Jas, who was sitting at the table. 

“I thought you had work today, Shane,” she said, placing the orange juice container back in the fridge.

“I do,” he said, grabbing a piece of toast off Jas’s plate. 

“Hey, that’s mine!” Jas exclaimed. 

Shane was out the door before they could say anything else to him. Despite his best speed-walking efforts, he still didn’t get to JojaMart until almost 9. Morris was waiting for him inside by the front register, with his arms crossed over his potbelly stomach. 

“I know I’ve put up with you being late before, Shane, but a whole hour late, with no warning? There had better be a good reason for this.”

“Uh, Jas was, um, sick this morning,” Shane lied. He’d never been a convincing liar, but he couldn’t tell if Morris didn’t believe him or if he just didn’t care.

“We value punctuality and reliability here at Joja and expect only the best from our employees. There are standards that need to be upheld. This is your third strike, Shane.”

“What are you saying, that I’m fired?” Shane couldn’t believe that was really what was happening. So what if he was an hour late? It’s not like stocking shelves of canned beans was a life-or-death task that _had_ to be completed before 9am. 

“You may return your work uniform by the end of the week. Clean, preferably,” Morris glanced at Shane’s rumpled shirt.

“Don’t you want me to work my last shift?”

“No, I already called Claire in to work with Sam.”

Shane looked behind Morris and noticed the quiet redhead minding her own business – or seeming like she was – as usual. Sam was further in the back of the store, looking a little more conspicuous. When he realized Shane knew that he was staring at him, he quickly started whistling and putting cans on shelves. What Shane was supposed to be doing right now.

“Look, Morris, you know I need this job—” Shane tried to say, quietly enough so that the others wouldn’t hear him beg. Morris held up his hand, cutting him off. 

“Then you should’ve acted like you needed it. I’m sorry, Shane, but I gave you a warning last time.”

Last time, Shane had woken up still drunk from the night before, and he thought he was doing the store a favor by going in late and slightly more sober. But of course, he hadn’t been able to tell Morris that. It was a bad look either way. Shane’s heart started to race, and he felt his face grow hot.

“Well, I never liked this fucking job anyway,” he snapped, feeling the anger flow through his veins. “You pretentious, self-absorbed _fuck_!”

With that, Shane turned around and stormed out the door. There was so much anger boiling in his chest, and he had nowhere to put it, nowhere for it to go, so he punched the nearest thing he saw – the big JojaMart sign. He slammed his fist into it as hard as he could, and immediately regretted it as the pain shot straight up his arm into his shoulder. He swore and stumbled back, gritting his teeth at the sharp pain. His hand better not be fucking broken.

Clutching his arm to his chest, he trudged over to Dr. Harvey’s clinic. There were no patients in the waiting room, as usual. Only that girl who worked part time as a receptionist – what was her name? Mary? His hand hurt too much to think – was behind the desk. 

“Oh, Yoba, Shane,” the girl jumped as Shane burst through the front door. Of course she knew _his_ name. It was impossible to be anonymous in this small town. “You scared me. Are you alright?”

“Does it look like I’m alright?” Shane replied, wincing as another surge of pain went up his arm. His hand was red and starting to swell. She called for Harvey and rushed him to the x-ray room, where Harvey looked at his scan and shook his head.

“Definitely broken,” he told Shane, as he went to a medical supply cabinet. “I’ll need to set it in a cast.”

He went on to lecture Shane about healthier ways to manage his anger, even though he hadn’t asked Shane how he broke his hand in the first place. It pissed Shane off that he just assumed he punched something because he was mad. He wasn’t wrong, of course, but that didn’t mean Shane couldn’t be annoyed by it. Shane stopped listening to Harvey ramble on as he put on the cast until he heard something about pain medicine.

“I’ll give you enough for a couple days,” he said, scrawling out a prescription. “But only take it if you need to. This is strong stuff.”

“Right, definitely,” Shane said, grabbing the paper from him, like he might change his mind. At least _something_ good was happening today.

As soon as Shane had left the pharmacy with the little orange bottle, he popped one of the painkillers in his mouth and swallowed it dry. His hand hurt like hell, but he knew it would be nothing compared to the painful conversation he was going to have to have with Marnie when he got home. He decided to stop by the corner store and get a 6-pack of beer too, because why not? He deserved it after this day, no matter if it was only noon. He drank one on the way home, throwing the empty can in a neighbor’s garbage bin before he reached the house.

He only had a couple minutes to himself inside – just enough to put away the beer and pill bottle – before Marnie came in and gasped at the sight of his cast.

“What happened to your hand?”

Shane inwardly groaned. Was it too much to ask for a little peace in his own home? Except it wasn’t really his, it was Marnie’s. Even his bedroom was only rented from her.

“Broken.”

Marnie shook her head in disbelief. “How did that happen?”

“Got mad and punched something,” Shane muttered. Marnie crossed her arms and waited expectantly for him to elaborate. Shane sighed and looked away from her, studying the floorboards like they were the most interesting thing in the room. “Morris fired me, so I punched the JojaMart sign. I know I’m stupid, you don’t have to tell me.”

“ _Fired?_ Is that some sort of joke?” Marnie asked, studying Shane’s face for any sign that he wasn’t being serious.

“You know me, always the fucking comedian,” Shane rolled his eyes and started heading to his room. 

“Don’t walk away from me, Shane. This is serious. How much did the doctor visit cost? Did you lose your health insurance when you got fired?”

Shane hadn’t considered this. The bill would be sent to the house later, so he didn’t know if it would be covered or not. He really wanted another beer, but he could already feel the effects of the painkiller and the alcohol blurring his head and didn’t need another reason for Marnie to bitch at him. 

“I don’t know. It’ll be fine.”

“Will it? Rent is due in two days.”

Shane didn’t say anything. He just looked out the window. The sky was starting to get cloudy. 

“You didn’t pay me last month either. Are you listening to me, Shane?”

“I’ll get you the money eventually.”

“That’s what you always say.” Marnie sat down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. “I don’t ask a lot from you, Shane. But we had an agreement when you moved in.”

Shane’s eyes snapped to Marnie’s face. He could feel his anger bubbling up again, despite being temporarily subdued by the medicine and alcohol. 

“You’d really evict me? Are you fucking serious? I’m family.”

“I’m not saying you have to leave right now, but if you don’t—”

“I moved here because you said you’d _help_ me, not turn on me.”

Shane wanted to punch something again. Marnie held up her hands, like she was protecting herself from him.

“I’m not turning on you, but something has to change, Shane—”

“You’d just throw Jas out on the street too?”

“Of course not—”

“So you’d take her away from me? She’s _my_ goddaughter.”

“Really? Because I seem to be the one who takes care of her.”

Now the anger was threatening to erupt from him. It was so hot and tight in his chest that he couldn’t think about anything but how unfair this whole argument was, and how Marnie should just give him a fucking break for _once_. He was about to shout this at her, when a little voice came from behind him.

“Are we moving?” Jas was standing in the doorway, looking smaller than she was. Her eyes were big and filled with tears. Shane froze, and his anger froze too, on the tip of his tongue, threatening to go off at any second. But he couldn’t yell, not in front of Jas. So he just stood there, looking at her.

Marnie was the one who reacted.

“No, sweetheart,” she said, standing up and going over to the child. “No one is going anywhere.”

“I’m going somewhere,” Shane muttered, and retreated to his room before Marnie could say anything else. Before he could see Jas cry.

He flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes, which made his head spin. It wasn’t spinning enough, he thought. He wanted to be drunk, but he didn’t want to walk past Marnie and Jas. So instead, he stayed in bed and turned on the TV. The channel it was on was playing that weird fortune telling TV show, which was odd because Shane never watched that crap.

"The spirits are... unusual today. Unsettled, but not angry. They don't feel neutral, yet they will not act. The day is in your-"

Shane rolled his eyes and switched to the cooking channel, which played in the background while he resumed wallowing in his own misery. How could Marnie threaten to betray him like that? As if his life wasn’t shitty enough as is? As his buzz from the beer started to fade, so did his anger, until it was only a burning thought in the back of his mind.

Finally, when he thought no one was in the kitchen, he rushed out of the house and toward the saloon. He grabbed his hoodie, because the temperature had suddenly dropped outside. A storm was rolling in off the ocean, despite the forecast for a sunny day. With it came a chilly wind. 

Shane arrived at the Stardrop Saloon earlier than usual, but not early enough, in his opinion. This was the place he knew he could always catch a break. He had his own corner of the bar that no one else dared to sit in. And Emily would be working there too. She was one of the only townspeople he could tolerate. One of the only ones who tolerated him. She’d let him vent to her without judgement, in a way that no one else did.

He slid into his usual spot, where Emily soon saw him. She greeted him with her cheerful smile, which would annoy Shane if it was from anyone else. Her smile faltered when she saw the cast.

“Rough day?” Emily asked pointing at Shane’s broken hand.

“You could say that.”

“I want to sign your cast!” Emily got a marker from behind the bar and started writing before Shane could protest. _Get well soon_ , she wrote in her swirly handwriting, and drew a sun with sunglasses and a smiling face.

“Why would a sun need to wear sunglasses?” Shane mumbled.

“Because this is a fashionable sun, of course,” she replied, unphased by Shane’s gloominess. “What can I get you to drink?”

“The usual. And a shot for the hell of it.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Are you on pain medicine for that hand?”

“No,” Shane lied, “it’s not that bad.”

Emily looked at him for a moment like she didn’t believe him, but got out a beer and a shot of vodka for him anyway.

“You match the bird I rescued now, the one with the broken wing,” she said, “Well, actually, you did until yesterday. I took him to the vet in the city to take it off. It’s still not completely healed, but he’s so much happier now.”

“Did you sign his cast too?” Shane downed the shot and chased it with the beer. 

“It was a sling, not a cast. You knew that Shane! Remember when you came by to meet him?”

Shane did remember, but didn’t particularly care enough to remember what kind of medical treatment the bird was receiving. He just nodded.

“Anyway, I’m glad he’s better, but that veterinarian bill was expensive. I’m gonna have to work doubles here all week to pay for it.”

 _You sure your rich parents can’t pitch in?_ Shane wanted to ask. Instead, he just took another drink.

“There’s a job opening at JojaMart,” he grumbled, staring down at his beer.

“Oh, really? Did someone quit? Was it Sam? He was telling me he wants to pursue music full-time.”

“No, it was me.”

Emily looked surprised. “What? Why? Did they fire you because you broke your hand? That’s illegal, you know—”

“No, I broke my hand because I got fired for being late.” Shane was getting really tired of telling this story over and over. “And Marnie already flipped her shit about it, so I really don’t need to hear that from you. She had the nerve to threaten to kick me out of the house if I can’t pay rent. Can you believe that?”

“Well, I know money has been tight for her, especially with Jas now—”

“Don’t do that,” Shane cut her off. His anger, which had been temporarily subdued, was boiling up again. “Don’t bring Jas into this and don’t try to make me feel bad. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You got fired. You must’ve done something wrong.”

Shane gripped his glass with his good hand. “Why aren’t you on my side?” 

“I’m always on your side, Shane. But she’s right. You’ve got to make a change.”

Emily spoke so calmly that it made Shane even angrier. Who did she think she was to tell him what to do? Did she think she was better than him?

“I’m always the bad guy, aren’t I? It’s always me who’s wrong.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, or what Marnie is saying—”

“Isn’t it? I’ve always done what I’m supposed to but it’s never good enough for anyone. I left my life in the city so that Jas could grow up here, I got that shitty job at JojaMart so that I can pay Marnie’s rent even though she’s _family_ , and I listen to you complain about your ‘problems’ as if you actually have any idea what it’s like to struggle—"

“Excuse me?”

Shane stopped rambling. Emily was staring at him with tears in her eyes. It reminded him of how Jas had looked at him earlier. That just made him angrier. It wasn’t his problem if she couldn’t handle the harsh truth. 

“You heard me,” Shane mumbled into his beer, taking a long drink.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else, please?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Emily sighed. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore, Shane.”

“I never asked for your help!” he snapped.

“I know.” Emily spoke in a whisper now, like she was trying not to be overheard.

“You can’t make me feel bad for something that I don’t care if you do or not.”

“But _I_ care, Shane. I care about you.”

“You just want to fix me, Emily. You want to fix me up like I’m that stupid fucking parrot of yours. But you can’t, so just leave me the fuck alone.”

The hurt spread across Emily’s face so quickly that Shane almost felt bad, but he was too angry – too drunk – to dwell on it. She turned away from him and went into the back room. Shane suddenly became aware of how quiet the bar was. People had stopped their conversations and were looking at him. Only the music from the jukebox could be heard.

“ _What?_ ” he snapped at Elliott, who happened to be standing at the bar closest to him. Elliott’s face turned red and he looked away without saying anything. Shane turned to the rest of the bar. “What the fuck are you all looking at?!”

“Shane,” Gus spoke firmly, which was unlike him. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Finally, something I agree with.”

Shane quickly downed the rest of his beer and stormed outside, letting the door slam behind him. It was raining now, and Shane pulled his hood over his head, even though it didn’t help keep him dry. He trudged toward home, still fuming about the whole argument. How could Emily play the victim like that, in front of everyone? Gossip travelled quickly in this small town, and by morning everyone would know what happened. They already didn’t like him. Now they had a reason to hate him. 

Shane needed another drink, but he didn’t want to go inside the house and face Marnie. He headed toward the barn, where he kept a stash of liquor, just for times such as this. In the back corner, in an empty crate and under some hay, was a bottle of vodka. Shane retrieved it and sat down on the barn floor. He took a long swig and closed his eyes, feeling it burn as it went down his throat.

“Shane? Is that you?” came Marnie’s voice from the barn door.

“Goddamn it,” Shane mumbled, standing up. He did not want to talk to anyone else today. He stumbled toward the back door, taking the bottle with him.

The path leading into the woods was muddy, and the rain was falling even harder now, but Shane kept walking toward the woods, just so that he could be alone. The rain was making Emily’s drawing on his cast run, and the sun looked like it was crying now, its sunglasses fading into a blurry black mess. Thunder rumbled through the air. He took another drink. Things were starting to get fuzzy now. Shane let his feet take him further and further into the forest. He just wanted to stop thinking, to stop being himself. Another drink. 

The wind picked up, blowing the rain into Shane’s face. He barely felt it. Thunder rolled. Shane tripped over a tree root and hit the ground. The bottle was still intact. The last thing Shane heard was an ear-splitting crack of lightning, and then everything was dark.

~-~-~-~-~

“ _Gooood_ morning, Stardew Valley! It’s gonna be a hot, sunny day, so make the most of the last two days of Summer!”

Shane opened his eyes. He was in his bed, and his radio alarm was going off. He hadn’t remembered setting it. Actually, he didn’t remember how he got home. Blurry memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. He felt like shit. But not as shitty as he should, he realized. He had no hangover. He rubbed his eyes, and stopped short. The cast on his hand was gone. In fact, it didn’t look like his hand had ever been hurt at all.

“Don’t forget that the Moonlight Jellies will pass by the beach tomorrow night, and you won’t want to miss it.”

Shane looked away from his miraculously healed hand and at his radio. Wouldn’t the Moonlight Jellies be here tonight? Yesterday was the 27th, so today was the last day of Summer, the 28th. 

“Let’s start off the day with the brand-new single from John Gregory and the Peaches, called _Play It Again_. This is its first time hitting the airwaves, folks, so let us know if we should, well, play it again!”

They were definitely playing the clip from the day before. That didn’t make any sense, but he didn’t really care. Shane sighed and turned the radio off before that dumb song could come on and looked at his hand again. Maybe he’d somehow drunkenly got the cast off his hand last night. But how could he have done that? There’s no way he operated the buzzsaw in the shed while drunk and didn’t cut his hand off. 

Something wasn’t right. Something was not right at all, but he didn't know what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO excited for this fic! I'm not sure that the time loop trope has been used in the sdv fandom yet, but it's one of my favorite kinds of plots. I was inspired when I watched my favorite movie of all time, Groundhog Day, on February 2nd (of course) and just had to write my take on the trope. Let me know in the comments what you think! :)
> 
> ~GG


	2. Chapter 2

Shane sat in bed, staring at his healed hand. He had two choices: he could either freak out about it, or he could go back to sleep and future Shane could do the freaking out. He picked the latter option, because 6:00 AM was too early for this bullshit.

At 9:00 he woke up again to his phone ringing. To his surprise, it was Morris.

“Hello?” he answered groggily. 

“I know I’ve put up with you being late before, Shane,” came Morris’s annoyingly stern voice through the speaker, “but a whole hour late, with no warning? There had better be a good reason for this.”

“Uh…” Shane sat up, thinking he must be dreaming. “I, uh, I thought you fired me.”

“Well, I’m certainly thinking that I should do that,” Morris snapped, “But as of this morning you still worked for me. Unless you have a good excuse, there’s no need for you to continue working at this establishment. We value punctuality and reliability here at Joja and expect only the best from our employees—”

“You already gave me this speech,” Shane cut him off. “And even if you hadn’t, I never work on Sundays.”

“It’s Saturday, Shane. Really, your incompetence astounds me. Consider yourself no longer an employee of the Joja Corporation.” Morris hung up. 

Shane was at a complete loss. 

“Did I just get fired again?” he thought out loud. He opened looked at the date on his phone. It read _Saturday, Summer 27._

Shane quickly got out of bed, thinking that a strong cup of coffee would help him make sense of what was going on. He went to put on some clothes before entering the kitchen, and could’ve sworn that his jeans and dirty work shirt were in the same spot as they were yesterday morning. He didn’t let himself dwell on this fact, and left the room as quickly as possible. 

“Look at you, sleeping in,” Marnie said, without looking up from where she was doing the dishes at the sink, “I thought you had work today.”

Shane couldn’t be sure, because he never paid attention to these things, but he thought she was wearing the same thing as she was yesterday – a red short-sleeve shirt and her old work jeans – but maybe he was just being paranoid. 

“I thought I got fired,” Shane mumbled as he got out the coffee grounds.

“Fired?” Marnie looked up at him in shock. “You got fired?”

“Well, I thought I got fired _yesterday,_ but turns out I got fired _today._ ”

“Is that some sort of joke?”

“You seriously don’t remember yesterday?” Shane asked incredulously. “None of it? Because that’s exactly what you said when I told you.”

“Of course, I remember yesterday,” she replied, “but I certainly would’ve remembered if you had told me you lost your job.”

Shane leaned on the kitchen counter and just stared at the brewing coffee. Today was surreal, but not surreal enough to be a dream. Maybe yesterday _had_ been some kind of horrible nightmare. But no, that was too real too. The pain in his hand had been real. The high from the painkillers and the buzz from the alcohol had been real. And that cold rain…

“Shane? Are you going to tell me what happened?” Marnie was looking at him with real concern in her eyes.

“I have to go,” Shane said, pouring the steaming hot coffee into a mug. He was starting to feel like he couldn’t breathe. He could not have this conversation right now. He couldn’t have it again.

“Not to work, I suppose,” Marnie crossed her arms.

“Please, can we do this later?” Shane went toward the door. “I’m having a very weird morning.”

Marnie tried to call after him, but didn’t follow him outside. He burned his mouth on the hot coffee, which was good, because it meant he was awake. Or maybe that was actually a bad thing. He still wasn’t sure. 

The day was hot, just like yesterday morning. The ground was bone dry, like it hadn’t rained the night before. Maybe it hadn’t.

Shane desperately wanted to tell someone about what was going on, someone who could make sense of it and tell him that he wasn’t going crazy. There was only one person in the whole town who he knew would believe him, and he’d made her cry in front of the whole bar last night. But then again, if Morris and Marnie hadn’t remembered yesterday, maybe Emily wouldn’t either. He headed toward her house, where he knew she would still be before work. 

After knocking on the front door, and her sister, Haley, answered and looked surprised to see Shane there. 

“Oh, hey,” she said, in the nonchalant way she always talked, like nothing could bother her. “Here for Emily?”

“Uh, yeah,” Shane said awkwardly. He couldn’t help it – Haley always made him nervous with her blonde hair and her blue eyes which always seemed to be taking in his every imperfection. She’d never liked him; he was sure of it. That was fair, he thought. He didn’t like himself either. 

She stepped aside and turned to call her sister. “Em! Your friend is here.”

Emily came out of the kitchen and smiled when she saw him. _Your friend_ echoed in Shane’s mind. Were they really friends? He’d sometimes wondered if Emily only thought of him as someone she saw while she was at work every night.

“Hi, Shane!” she said cheerily. “What brings you by? I was going to make pancakes for breakfast. Do you want some?”

“Um…” Shane was absolutely at a loss for words. If she remembered yesterday, she was not still upset with him at all. “Yeah, I could eat some pancakes.”

“Great!” She turned around to go back in the kitchen. Shane followed her hesitantly.

“Hey, uh, I have a random question. Do you ever get déjà vu?”

“Sure, sometimes,” she replied, putting on a pink floral apron over a floral yellow summer dress. She looked like a walking garden. It hurt Shane’s eyes. 

“You don’t have it today, do you?”

“Nope, because you never come by for breakfast. Why, do you have it?”

“Well…” Shane stopped himself. What even was his response? That he felt like today was yesterday, or some weird repeat of yesterday that was different? That he’d lived a nightmare and was upset that it hadn’t been real? Maybe he should just be grateful that he didn’t have to deal with the consequences. “I did for a second, but it’s passed. I think I should leave, though.”

He suddenly felt out of place in her house. He’d been over before, when she hemmed his suit for the flower dance last spring, and earlier this summer when she’d made Jas a dress for her birthday. Both of those times hadn’t felt like a proper visit, and he certainly hadn’t shown up unannounced. Despite that, Emily didn’t seem to mind his presence. 

“No, you have to stay! Do you like chocolate chips in your pancakes?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Shane glanced over at Haley, who did seem a little more bothered by him being there. She was sitting on the couch now, looking at her phone, but she glanced up at him and muttered something under her breath to herself. Or maybe he’d just imagined it.

He knew he must look ridiculous in their clean, colorful house. They had artwork hanging on the walls, probably expensive ones that their parents purchased while on their travels. There were built-in bookcases filled with more books than Shane had ever read in his life. Even the furniture all went together, picked out intentionally to fit the aesthetic of the room. It was a beautiful room. There were no beer cans littered around, no muddy footprints from the barn, no dirty clothes strewn about. It was the opposite of his life.

“Well, if you don’t know, you have to try it! Here, let me top off your coffee.” Emily, ever the bartender, grabbed a coffee pot off the warmer and filled up Shane’s half-empty mug.

Before he knew it, he was sitting at her kitchen table, listening to her tell the same story she had yesterday about how she took her parrot to get the sling taken off its broken wing while flipping pancakes on the griddle. Shane just sat there, drinking his coffee, and trying not to spiral into a panic. Yesterday must not have happened. That was the only explanation. And this day was going a whole lot better than the first time around, even though he still was fired. At least there were pancakes in this one.

“Wait a sec, it’s Saturday. Don’t you have work?” Emily looked up from the stove.

“Oh, uh… I have the day off.” Shane didn’t want to fight with her again. It would happen inevitably, but why should it be now?

“Really? Did you request off for a special reason?” Emily asked as she plated the pancakes.

“No.”

“Morris just gave it to you? That doesn’t sound like him.”

Shane was getting annoyed. This was starting to sound like yesterday’s conversation. Emily was just assuming that he’d done something wrong.

“Why don’t you believe me?” he asked defensively. “I just don’t have to work today.”

“I do believe you,” Emily said calmly, “I was just asking because you complain all the time that Morris doesn’t ever approve time off.”

“I don’t _complain_ ,” Shane snapped. 

“Whatever you say. I’m just glad you stopped by. Want syrup?” Emily put a plate down in front of Shane. She’d placed the chocolate chips in a smiley face. It was so… so cute. And so nice. Shane couldn’t wrap his mind around why she would do this for him. She was trying to catch him slipping up. It only made sense. Maybe she and Marnie were in cahoots with each other, which is why she’d been on Marnie’s side yesterday. Except that yesterday wasn’t real, right?

“I’m not hungry,” Shane said, standing up from the table. “Sorry.”

Emily’s face fell. “Okay…”

But he was out the door before she could protest anymore. He should never have been there in the first place. He’d just been so caught up in his confusion this morning that he hadn’t considered that they weren’t close enough friends for that. If they were friends at all.

Shane didn’t know what to think. He still felt so angry about what he’d thought happened yesterday, but he couldn’t actually be mad at anyone. And now, Marnie was going to be angry with him for getting fired again, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. 

He looked at the time on his phone. Was it too early for a drink? It was already after 12:00. Maybe he’d just have a small one. It’s not like he had anything to do for the rest of the day. If yesterday hadn’t happened, that meant that his bottle of vodka was still in the barn. He crept in through the side door, hoping Marnie wasn’t in there. He was only greeted by the cows and chickens and goats who had wandered inside to escape the summer heat.

Shane retrieved his bottle from its hiding place. It was untouched. 

He wandered back outside and down to the old dock at the lake, where he knew he could be alone. He sat on the edge and took his shoes off, letting his feet dip into the cool water. He took a sip of the vodka. It was warm, which wasn’t very nice, but the burn as it made its way down his throat was comforting. 

His mind wandered as he sat in the quiet afternoon. He tried not to think about anything. The vodka helped with that. He watched some ducks swim in the lake, noticed the trees gently sway in the hot summer breeze, felt the sun beat down on his skin. He’d probably be sunburned tomorrow. He looked over at the wizard’s tower, which he could only see the roof of where it peeked up over the trees. He wondered that the hell that “wizard” did in there. Probably drugs, he thought. Shane wondered if he’d give any to him.

Shane took another swig from the bottle and leaned back on the dock, letting the haze of alcohol wash over his mind. This wasn’t such a bad day. Maybe he’d stay out here until Marnie went to bed.

A cool breeze startled Shane out of his thoughts and he looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were coming from the direction of the ocean. It was going to rain, despite the forecast, just like yesterday. Shane sat up, and when he did, he realized how drunk he’d gotten. He looked down at the bottle. He could’ve sworn he’d only had a couple sips, but it was almost gone. He stood up, trying to keep his balance. 

He barely felt the roots and rocks on the path as he walked barefoot back home, his shoes forgotten on the dock. Maybe he’d go to the saloon after he got his rain jacket from inside. Heavy drops of rain were just starting to come down as he opened the front door.

“Where have you been?” Marnie’s voice came from behind the store counter. Shane ignored her and headed toward the kitchen. “Are you _drunk?_ ”

“No.” Shane suddenly felt overwhelmingly dehydrated from drinking in the sun all day, and grabbed a glass of water and chugged it down.

“You’re holding an empty bottle of vodka.”

Shane had finished the bottle on the way home and hadn’t noticed. He didn’t care. So what if he got day drunk on a nice summer day? He was an adult, and was allowed to do whatever he wanted.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m drunk,” he said unapologetically. 

“Miss Penny said drunk is only for grown-ups,” Jas’s little voice came out of nowhere. Shane jumped and saw her sitting on the kitchen floor, playing with a tea set and her dolls. “I asked her if I could be drunk too, like you, and she said no.”

Shane suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. He rushed into his room and shut the door, desperate to get away from Jas and her innocent face. He stumbled into his bathroom and puked, missing the toilet bowl by a few inches and getting vomit on the seat. Leaning against the bathroom wall, he put his head in his hands and felt the room spin. Fuck, he was a horrible father for letting Jas see him like that. She was so young; she shouldn’t even know what alcohol was. He felt such a piece of shit.

Shane pulled himself up and rinsed the bitter taste of vomit out of his mouth. Then he went back to his room and stripped off his clothes, which were damp with sweat and rain. 

He crawled into bed and shut his eyes. Tomorrow was gonna suck, but at least it would be a new day.

~-~-~-~-~

“ _Gooood morning_ , Stardew Valley! It’s gonna be a hot, sunny day, so make the most of the last two days of Summer! Don’t forget that the Moonlight Jellies will pass by the beach tomorrow night, and you won’t want to miss it.”

Sane sat straight up in bed, his heart racing.

_No._


End file.
